


I'm Fine Where I'm At

by weekend_conspiracy_theorist



Series: Leather Jackets and Lab Coats [1]
Category: The Flash (Comics), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/F, Kidnapping, basically it's 1600 words where all they do is bicker watch top chef and make out, making out in cheap motel rooms, this was supposed to be goofy and funny and it turned out my typical blend of too-serious and fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-31
Updated: 2015-10-31
Packaged: 2018-04-29 02:38:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5113121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weekend_conspiracy_theorist/pseuds/weekend_conspiracy_theorist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Caitlin may be willing to sit around and wait for her superhero best friend to come rescue her, but she's really not interested in joining her kidnapper in watching reality television.</p><p>Apparently making out with her is another story.</p><p>(Stands alone.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Fine Where I'm At

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [И тут хорошо](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11607222) by [MasterIota](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MasterIota/pseuds/MasterIota)



> Lisa here is an amalgamation of the character as shown on TV and as appearing in the comics--essentially, I couldn't resist the flashy gold costume and the ice skates that let her skate through the air, but I like her as a thief rather than a woman attempting to destroy the Flash's life and kill his wife after the death of her boyfriend.
> 
> I, on the other hand, am an amalgamation of "absolute trash for femslash" and "incapable of writing goofy things but also incapable of writing things with plot". So whatever this is is what you get.

"What do you think? Too gaudy?" Lisa Snart asks, holding the brilliant green and purple pendant up against her neck, and really, there's something to be said about the fact that this woman's dressed in a painfully shiny gold skating outfit, complete with matching domino mask and skates, and it's the necklace that she's concerned about.

 

"It's perfect," Caitlin tells her, sardonic and sickly sweet, but she doesn't elaborate further since she's technically a hostage. She doesn't trust the thief not to snap if she pushes too far, even if Lisa hasn't done anything hostile. Even the initial kidnapping was surprisingly polite—for a kidnapping.

 

(The Golden Glider is laughing and racing away from the Flash, whose feet are currently held to the ground by a mass of not-elementally-gold goop. She passes Caitlin- who had shouldered her way through the crowd to try and help Barry- and she snags the other woman's hand. Caitlin's dragged off balance, stumbles after Lisa with a yelp of surprise.

 

Lisa turns her head and shouts over her shoulder, all dramatic villain voice and melodramatics, "IF YOU FOLLOW ME, FLASH, SHE GETS IT." To Caitlin, in a quiet voice like laughter and logic and fallacy, she explains, "If I leave here alone, he'll just chase me down," and then flashes a grin that's surprisingly disarming for the amount of teeth involved.

 

"Because he won't chase you down in order to rescue the friend that you're _kidnapping_?" Caitlin hisses (Lisa laughs) and tries to tug herself away. But Lisa's grip is strong and stilettos weren't made for traction, and she just continues to be sucked along in the other woman's wake.

 

"Brace yourself," Lisa says suddenly, breaking through Caitlin's awkward struggling, and then she scoops Caitlin up princess-style as she takes to the air with a few strokes of her skates. Caitlin shrieks, clings to Lisa, and the thief laughs again. "Don't worry, we'll only be in the air until we're out of the city; there's this Maserati I've been wanting to take for a spin.")

 

Lisa huffs, rolls her eyes, and packs the necklace away once more. (The gold chain whispers against the satin lining of the jewelry box as she coils it delicately, and then the box shuts with a sharp snap.) "No need to be so patronizing, _Doc_ ," she says, a hint of a taunt in the title and a full-blown challenge in her raised eyebrow. "It's not for me to keep, anyway, is it?"

 

Caitlin wrinkles her nose in disbelief. "You _don't_ keep the things you steal?"

 

"Short answer? Just the money. Long answer?" Lisa sets the necklace aside, leaning in close to purr, "Depends on how much I like what I've stolen." Her gaze flicks over Caitlin, a smirk lingering at the corners of her lips, and the scientist leans away with a dramatic huff and a roll of her eyes.

 

Lisa laughs and spins away to flop down on the bed of the shitty motel room and unlace her skates. She sheds her mask, too, and trades her costume for jeans, a tank, and her favored leather jacket—Caitlin blushes when Lisa strips, and there's a part of her that thinks, somewhat irrationally, that this means Lisa has won.

 

Won what, she's not certain, but the thought makes her flush further, this time with anger and frustration.

 

By the time Caitlin has stopped glaring at the wall, Lisa has strewn herself out on the bed with one arm back behind her head, the other lifted just enough for the ancient, staticky TV to read the remote as she flips channels. There's nothing about Lisa Snart that could ever be termed normal, but right now she _almost_ looks it.

 

Caitlin's fascinated, despite herself, by the juxtaposition between the Golden Glider and Lisa herself—the over-the-top, flashy thief who tends to be more taunting than murderous, and the kind of woman who looks like she could probably tear your heart out and eat it for breakfast. She doesn't realize she's staring until the thump of Lisa patting the bed breaks her out of her reverie.

 

"I tossed your phone somewhere over downtown so your friends can't track us, and my ride won't be here at least until this episode of Top Chef is over," she drawls, so perfectly casual and disinterested that Caitlin almost wonders if it's an act. "You might as well get comfortable, Doc."

 

"I may be confident enough in my _superhero best friend_ not to bother trying to escape," Caitlin snaps, "but I draw the line at sitting within five feet of you, no matter how uncomfortable this chair is. I'm fine where I'm at."

 

Lisa turns her head, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "Move to the bed, Doc," she says, voice polite in a way that implies it's not polite at all.

 

"I really don't like you," Caitlin tells her.

 

"It's funny how you think I care." Lisa slides closer to the edge, so that Caitlin has room to join her without coming into contact with her, and pats the bed again.

 

With a huff, Caitlin acquiesces. She sits with her back against the cheap headboard, legs stretched out in front of her, and glares moodily at the television. Lisa radiates smug satisfaction as she watches the television as well. Caitlin maintains strict silence, arms crossed huffily over her chest, despite Lisa making the occasional (generally amusing) comment about the show.

 

Until Kristen's sent home instead of Josie.

 

"What?!?" Caitlin blurts, enraged, sitting up again from the vague slouch she'd relaxed into. Lisa looks over at her, eyebrow raised in amusement, but she doesn't even notice as she rants. "That entire debacle was one hundred percent Josie's fault, and I can't believe Kristen didn't stand up for herself! I can't believe none of her other team members stood up for her—I, oh my God, I can't believe the judges actually accepted that passing the buck _bullshit_!" She practically shrieks the last word, and Lisa lets out a surprised bark of laughter, yelps when she slams the back of her head against the headboard.

 

Caitlin slaps a hand over her mouth in embarrassment, eyes wide as Lisa curls in on herself with a hand on the back of her head, still laughing.

 

"Are you okay?" Caitlin blurts, and Lisa nods as she straightens back out, wiping tears from the corners of her eyes. (Caitlin's relatively certain that they're from the laughter, not the possible concussion.)

 

Lisa looks over at her, eyes crinkled from the force of her smile and teeth bright even in the dim room. "If it makes you feel better," she says, "Kristen kicked ass throughout Last Chance Kitchen and ended up winning the whole season."

 

Caitlin stares at her for just a moment, and then laughter bubbles through her, fights its way out even as she tries to clamp down on it, until she's half breathless and clutching her sides. Lisa joins in, her laughter bright and inelegant and utterly charming, as she lifts her hips just enough to free her phone from her pocket. She checks the screen, huffs, and rolls to her feet.

 

She stretches- and Caitlin's laughter definitely does not die off because she's appreciatively eyeing the strip of skin where Lisa's t-shirt rides up, thank you- before rolling her shoulders and cracking her neck. "There's change on the dresser and a payphone outside," Lisa says. "This was fun; I'd be willing to hold you hostage more often."

 

Lisa checks her phone again, rolls her eyes. "What an asshole," she mutters, sliding her phone back into her pocket—and then she pauses, some thought occurring to her that puts a mischievous look on her face. She drops back onto the bed and scoots close to Caitlin's side, beaming in a way that makes Caitlin vaguely suspicious. Caitlin eyes her, and Lisa's wicked grin relaxes into something soft and reassuring.

 

"Punch me if you don't want me to do this," she declares, and then she leans in, one hand bracing on the top of the headboard, the other hovering vaguely in space, not touching until Caitlin gives the go ahead. Her eyes lock on Caitlin's, dark and soft, and they drift to her lips—Caitlin feels her breath catch, her mind go blank; she hadn't realized all of the flirting had been _serious_.

 

Caitlin nods, mute.

 

Lisa's lips are slightly chapped, warmer than Caitlin would have expected. Her fingers cup the back of Caitlin's head, and Caitlin makes a soft sound of approval, moves her hands to clutch at the lapels of Lisa's jacket. (Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's glad that she's sitting down; no chance for her knees to give out from under her.) She tilts her head and the kiss deepens, sweet and slow.

 

The moment drags on and on and Caitlin almost can't _think_ beyond the way that Lisa's lips fit against hers, the way Lisa's fingers card through her hair, and then Lisa draws back. She sits back on her knees, wiping Caitlin's lipstick from the corner of her mouth. "Definitely kidnapping you more often," she sighs dreamily, sliding off the bed to grab the duffel with her costume and the stolen necklace. "Later, Doc."

 

"I—what?" Caitlin snaps out of her trance, but the door is clicking shut before she's even off of the bed. She flings it open to see Lisa jump into the passenger side of a convertible, her brother (radiating boredom and annoyance) at the wheel. Lisa waves goodbye as they tear out of the lot, trailing rubber marks and laughter behind them.

 

Caitlin stands in the doorway, staring blankly across the parking lot. Sooner or later, she'll need to place a call on the pay phone Lisa left her quarters for.

 

Sooner or later, her lips will have to stop tingling.

**Author's Note:**

> So Len got there, like, thirty minutes before Caitlin almost gave Lisa a concussion, but Lisa ignored him because, I mean. She was in the middle of an episode. She can't just stop in the middle of an episode. And then right when she was actually about to leave, when she checked her phone that second time? He sent her a text saying "If you aren't down here in the next thirty seconds I'm leaving you behind."
> 
> So, you know. She decided to call his bluff and spend like ten minutes making out with a cute girl.
> 
> 12/1/15: I'm rewatching this season of Top Chef right now, and the Restaurant Wars episode has not stopped ANGERING ME BEYOND BELIEF. Like, Padma and Gail hated Kristin's concept for her restaurant... which is what she had won for on the episode before. And then, okay, so Kristin accepted responsibility for Josie's dish because she sauced the plate but? Every time she asked Josie to do something Josie didn't, forcing Kristin to step in just so that the dish would even be served?????? Kristin, why were you noble you should have thrown Josie under the bus.
> 
> I just. I am so glad she made it back through Last Chance Kitchen and won the season, you don't even understand.


End file.
